


Crazy Looks Good On You

by Writergirl2007



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Boys In Love, Gallavich, Ian's POV, Lip walks in on Ian and Mickey, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 00:22:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10797843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writergirl2007/pseuds/Writergirl2007
Summary: Ian and Mickey have a fight and then make up in the Gallagher kitchen.





	Crazy Looks Good On You

Ian ran a shaky hand through his messy red hair. He sighed loudly, not caring who heard. He sat at the kitchen table alone, drinking a beer and smoking in the dark.

It had all started when Mickey came home from work. He had recently taken a job at a meat packing plant on the East side of Chicago. He worked twelve hours a day and it was beginning to strain their relationship. They had been fighting a lot more than usual and, tonight was no exception. The steady income was nice but Ian missed having his boyfriend at home. He had unknowingly taken over the role of housewife, and caretaker while Mickey and Svetlana were working.

Ian watched as Mickey sat his keys down on the kitchen table and lit a cigarette. “Good day at work?” He ask, trying to strike up a conversation.

“No, I fucking hate it.” Mickey let out a puff of smoke and walked into his bedroom.

Ian leaned against the door frame, watching as Mickey slung his stained work shirt over his head. He admired his boyfriend's shirtless body and quietly approached him from behind. He circled his arms around Mickey’s stomach and placed a kiss between Mickey’s shoulder blades, his lips lingering there for a few seconds.

“Glad you're home.” Ian spoke softly against his flesh. He was shocked when Mickey shoved him away roughly.

“Not now shithead, I got shit to do.” Mickey settled for a cut off tee shirt and pulled it on.

Ian flopped down on the bed frustrated and confused. Mickey just got home for fucks sake. “Where you going?”

“Iggy and some dudes from work want to break into that abandoned house a couple blocks over.” Mickey sat down on the bed next to Ian and lit a cigarette for them to share. “We're going to rip the copper pipes outta the walls man, easy money.”

“Iggy, and some guys, huh?”

“Yeah, I just fucking said that.” Mickey passed the cigarette to Ian and gave him an annoyed look.

“I thought we could mess around.” Ian said, exhaling smoke through his nose. He smoothed his hand against Mickey’s leg suggestively.

“Don't go all soft on me Gallagher, I'll be back later.”

“I'll come with you.”

“Don't you have some other shit to do? Watch my kid, or clean this shit hole?” Mickey ask, raising his eyebrows. He gave Ian the cigarette to finish and walked into the kitchen.

Ian practically ran into the kitchen, right on Mickey's heels. “I been in this house all fucking day, waiting for you to come home.”

Mickey ignored him and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He opened the can and chugged it, emptying the can in seconds. He slung it into the trash can and burped loudly. “You just going to stand there and stare at me all fucking night?” He ask, grabbing another beer from the fridge.

“Fuck off.” Ian yelled, his face red and eyes wide. He stormed out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom.

He grabbed his backpack and threw all his shit inside. In his mind he tried to sort out what was happening. Mickey was going to steal shit without him, with dudes who weren't him, and Ian was told to sit at home? Hell no. Mickey may have been his boyfriend, but he wasn't going to tell him what he could or couldn't do.

Mickey appeared in the room with his finger pointed at Ian, “I'm the last person you wanna pick a fight with.”

Ian took a few steps toward Mickey till their faces were inches apart. “I'm leaving, fuck this, fuck you. Find another babysitter.” His shoulder crashes into Mickey’s chest forcefully as he pushes past him.

“That's right, fuck off bitch! Leave! Get the fuck out my house!” Mickey screams, launching the half full beer can at Ian’s head.

Ian had walked home angrily. He was only comforted when he reached the solitude of this kitchen. He had been sitting here for almost an hour now. He honestly didn't know why he took Mickey’s shit. Besides the fact that he was totally, and completely, in love with the man. _That could have been it_. He had never actually admitted that aloud, but it was true.

He had to physically stop himself from running back to Mickey. He knew what would happen, they would have angry make up sex, and pretend nothing happened. _Worked good so far right_? His dick thickened as he thought about what they would do.

Pain and anger was their aphrodisiac and Ian craved it just as much as he craved Mickey’s lips. Their fights usually ended with bloody kisses and groping hands. Tear stained cheeks, and soft tongues that met between split and bruised lips.Their fists and fingers spoke words their lips dared not say. They were both crazy in love, and stubborn as hell.

He heard footsteps behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Lip. “Hey, I thought you were staying with Mickey.” Lip said taking a seat next to Ian, “Why you sitting in the dark?”

“Decided to come home.”

“You two have a lover's quarrel, or something?” Lip said with a laugh.

“Fuck you.” Ian rose the beer to his lips and took another drink.

“Oh, shit. I'm sorry dude.” Lip reached for the cigarette between his fingers and Ian passed it off, “Thought you were going to quit smoking?”

“He has my nerves tore up. I'm losing my shit. I don't even know if we’re together anymore.” He usually refrained from blurting out details of his relationship to his family. Mostly because, he figured no one cared.

“What happened?” 

“He expects me to watch the baby while he goes out with other dudes, doing fuck knows.”

“Going out with other dudes?”

“Well, his cousin, and some guys from work. He didn't invite me. He doesn't want me there.” 

Both boys turned their heads when they heard the front door open. Mickey walked into the living room, his eyes immediately landing on Ian.

“I'll let you two sort this shit out. Don't kill each other.” Lip smacked Ian on the back roughly and went back upstairs.

Mickey approached him slowly, with his fists bawled up at his side's. Ian didn't know if he was going to be punched or kissed, but he was not afraid. He could hold his own against Mickey Milkovich.

“Svet has the kid. I figured we could go to the dugout; throw back a couple beers?” He flashed Ian a wolfish smile, showing all his front teeth.

Ian laughed. He laughed so hard his ribs hurt. _This guy was going to walk in here and pretend nothing happened._ He was tired of dancing around their issues. He wanted Mickey to talk to him.

“You ashamed of me?” Ian said jabbing his fist into Mickey’s chest.

“No, of course not.” His face softened, and he reached out to touch Ian's face. His fingers wrapped around the collar of Ian's shirt and he pulled him in close.

“You piss me off.” Ian spoke through clenched teeth.

“You're a hot head Gallagher,” He said it like it was the answer to everything, “You always start shit with me first.” Mickey loosened his grip around Ian's collar and pulled him into a kiss.

Ian opened his mouth and let Mickey’s tongue glide against his. He relaxed into his body, as Mickey's thumbs dug into his hip bones. Their lips separated, and Mickey pressed his face into Ian's chest breathing him in deeply.

“I'm sorry.” His voice was muffled from his shirt, but Ian still heard it. He was sure he was dreaming. Mickey didn't say sorry, ever.

Ian grabbed his head in his hands and forced Mickey to look him in the eye. “I miss you.” That was all he could get out before Mickey's hands impatiently shot down to his belt buckle.

He make quick work of the latch and jerked the leather belt, sending it whistling through Ian's belt loops. The action made Ian gasp and his hips bucked in anticipation. Mickeys fingers grabbed the hem of his shirt and tore it off his body. He let out a groan when his fingers were met with another layer of fabric.

“Fuck, how many layers you got on bitch?”

Ian tilted his head to slide his tongue between Mickey's parted lips. The heat between them was building rapidly and Mickey tore away to remove another shirt from Ian's body. Ian still had a tank top on and Mickey became desperate.

“Get fucking naked, now.” Mickey ordered, breathing heavy.

Ian smiled and pulled the tank top over his head, throwing it at Mickey. “Happy now?”

Mickey nodded his head and raked his eyes over Ian's perfectly sculpted chest and stomach. His eyes traveled down to where his skinny jeans dug into his hip bones, and he bit his lip in appreciation. He was wearing the hell out of those jeans and Mickey wouldn't be completely happy till they were down around his ankles. He lunged for Ian, both hands instinctively wrapping around the back of his head.

Ian swallowed Mickey's moans as their tongues mixed together perfectly. Mickey grinded against him and shoved his back into the kitchen counter. He felt Mickeys hands run down his body and slide into his boxers. “You're so fucking sexy.” Mickey breathed against his mouth, “Don't ever leave me.”

Normally it would have taken a case of beer to get Mickey to talk like this, and Ian grew harder from his words. He was teasing him, purposely ignoring his neglected cock. He let out a moan when Mickey finally wrapped his right hand around him. Ian watched as his cock moved through his palm quickly.

“Shit.”

He let his head fall back as he took in the pleasure. They were both caught up in the moment and didn't hear Lip walking down the stairs. The kitchen light turned on and both boys separated quickly. Ian buttoned his pants and picked his belt up from the floor.

“What the fuck?” Mickey ask, raising his arms up at Lip. Lip stood there in complete shock. “

I thought you all were fighting....shit.” He turned on his heels and walked back up stairs.

Mickey laughed and leaned his head into Ian's shoulder. “Your brothers a dick. Get your shit, let's go home.” Mickey picked Ian's shirt off the floor and threw it at his face playfully, “That's the only one you fucking get.”


End file.
